Holy Ground
by stargazing.from.earth
Summary: A year after she meets the Mason family (minus Tom), Audria finds herself in the New America with the rest of the 2nd Mass. Although she deeply cared for them, something is missing and she's tired of being treated like a child. When Audria makes some drastic changes to her life, what will be the consequences? (Sort of sequel to Fly Away, don't need to read that to understand.)
1. Rushing Towards Danger

**Author's Note: Okay, so…Back story time!**

**In this story, we begin at the first chapter of the third season, where we find that Tom Mason has been selected as President of the new United States. Almost the entire second season has been…well, rewritten a bit, in my version. You will find out about what happened in that time frame, so stay tuned. You'll learn of Tom Mason's reappearance and the arrival at Charleston, it might just take a bit of time. **

**Without further adieu, I present to you: Holy Ground (the sort of sequel to Fly Away) **

_They were coming from behind us, making metallic groaning noises and loud stomps on the soft ground. Gazing ahead, I could see they were coming from in front of us and from the sides of us too. The mechs were coming from all directions, and I knew the skitters wouldn't be far behind them. It was useless. We were going to die, no question. And Ben…_

_I glanced over at him, shaking my head furiously, tears welling up in my eyes at the sight of his spikes glowing bright blue-white. He had that blank expression that I hated so much, and I knew that this time; there was nothing I could do to help him, or myself. _

_And we weren't alone. I looked all around at the scared faces of Anne and Matt. Weaver, as always, held a stone-cold expression and faced our opposition with determination. As if that would change our fate. I laughed bitterly, and broke out into a run toward the skitters, knife in hand. If I was going to die, I sure wasn't going down without a fight._

I wrenched upright in my bed, gasping for air. The same thought rolled through my mind over and over and over again. _Where is Ben? _

This was the first thought to pop in mind most mornings when I awoke in a cold sweat, screaming as if my life depended on it. We had been through too much for me to lose him now, and I couldn't stand the fact that he was never near me when I woke up this way. I needed to make sure he was safe, and I was afraid of failing at that like I'd failed at everything else.

The memories were hard to repress. I would go weeks without thinking of the things that had happened in the past year, and it would make no difference. Without warning, the thoughts would slip into my dreams like slimy skitters and terrify me all over again. These nightmares were achingly familiar, and I resented them, but there was nothing I could do.

I pushed open the door to my sleeping quarters and turned immediately to the soldier waiting outside the door. "Where is Ben?" I questioned, on the verge of breaking down into body-shaking sobs. In fact, that wasn't a rare occurrence on mornings like these.

"Went on patrol with Hal earlier," the soldier said quietly, giving me a soft smile. He was accustomed to my deep concern for the Mason family by then. "Should be back in an hour or so."

I nodded, and gave the soldier a weak, forced smile. Why did living like this have to be a daily struggle? "Do you know if Weaver has responded to my request yet?" I muttered toward the young man, almost embarrassed that I'd been asking everyday for two weeks.

He shrugged apologetically and shook his head. A sharp, hot flash of anger streaked through me, and I could feel my face contorting into a scowl. Weaver had been avoiding me for too long, and it was high time I got some answers. I couldn't deal with any more of this.

I stormed down the corridors of our home, intent on finding the colonel of the 2nd Massachusetts regiment, no longer in that position in our new location. Honestly, I wasn't entirely sure _what _Weaver was anymore, but I knew he was close to Tom Mason, and I knew he could give me what I wanted.

Tom Mason, of course, was the President. And my sort of father figure in the dark times of the end of the world. Except that the way Mr. Mason saw it, it was just the beginning of our war with the aggressors, and we would survive and even win in the end. I wasn't entirely sure about that- certainly wouldn't say we would _win_- but I loved the spirit with which Tom Mason lead the new country, and that made me admire him like no one else before. And respect aside, he was my _sort of _boyfriend's father, so, in a way, I didn't have any choice but to like him.

I pushed open the doors roughly, not bothering to knock or speak the pleasantries I usually attempted with Weaver. I understood his concern was for my safety, and I knew that he cared about me, but I was no longer a child. The past year had taught me that, for good or bad, I was in control of what happened to me and I no longer needed to sit pretty as everyone around me risked _their_ lives for _my _well-being.

"Colonel Weaver, I want a straight answer." I said these words in a hard, serious voice. It didn't matter what he wanted, I was going to make him listen.

Weaver's eyes flicked up to me in surprise, shaking his head in disapproval. "Audria…" He shook his head some more, and sighed, putting away the files he had been studying.

"Captain Weaver, you know what I'm capable of. Just because I'm a girl—"

"It has nothing to do with you being a girl. You're only sixteen, for God's sake," Weaver said in a rough tone, a strained expression on his face.

"And I wonder who else is sixteen," I said in a biting voice, my words just dripping with sarcasm. "Oh yeah, Ben. Who is on the front lines of it all, risking his life every single day by your command."

"You know as well as I do that the boy has asked to be there," Weaver replied gruffly, his anger rising visibly.

"And _you _know as well as I do that _I've _asked to be right there with him," I retorted, spitting the words out at him. I don't know when our relationship became so…well, almost hostile, but it had been this way for a while now. A tiny piece of my mind felt terrible for the way I was treating him, but the rest of me was too angry, and too distraught, to honestly care.

"Audria, I know you worry about him." Weaver's voice softened considerably, and the anger left his face. My near obsession with Ben's safety wasn't exactly a secret among anyone. "But you being there will only distract him. Instead of doing what he's supposed to, he'll be worried about you."

"And I'll be constantly worried about him, unless I can see him with my own eyes," I said, in a more gentle tone this time, trying not to let the frustration from moments before seep into my voice. "You've seen what it does to me. I can't stay back while he's out there. It's killing me slowly."

Weaver sighed and slammed his fist down on the table. I eyed him cautiously as he started shaking his head fervently. "Audria. I'm going to regret this, I know it. But I'm saying yes."

My eyes lit up, until the Captain held up a hand to me, signaling for me to reel it in. "But you have to promise me to take care of yourself. Don't take any unnecessary risks. And remember that Ben can take care of himself, he doesn't need you to jump in at every slight problem."

I nodded, consenting to all of that. If Ben needed me, though, I could be there, I could actually help him, I could save his life if it came to that. He would have someone to watch his back. And that thought made me immensely relieved, my shoulders sagging with the weight of it, as I realized I had nearly achieved my goal. Until Weaver spoke, that is.

"My last condition is that you have to get the permission of Tom. And you might want to talk it over with Ben too. As much as you worry about him, I doubt it's half of what he spends worrying about you, and you've been home and safe up until now."

I faltered on that request and stared up at Weaver, completely shocked. Convince Tom? That would be nearly impossible. The man wouldn't have his…well, almost his daughter, fight alongside the rest of his sons. If something went wrong… I pushed that thought out of my head, and whispered to the colonel, "Do I have to?"

"That's my final say. You get him to agree, and I'll have you out on the next patrol with Ben."

**Author's Note: Okay, so...How do you like the new Audria, those of you who read Fly Away? She's a bit bolder, and a lot less innocent. You'll find out why, I promise. And I have to inform you; unfortunately, I'm changing the character of Deni. She will no longer be a soldier, fighting, and she will no longer be Ben's close friend in this. It just makes it less complicated when I try to write Deni and Ben's relationship, considering the presence of Audria in this one. Anyway, thank you for reading!**


	2. Oatmeal and Nervousness

**Author's Note: The second chapter has arrived! This story should end up being about twenty chapters long, the way I've planned it, with the possibility of a sequel, but that could change. While working on this, I'm also going to be going back into the first story (which you don't need to have read!) to improve it and make it segue into this one rather than randomly jumping here.**

**The chapters WILL get longer as I go, I promise, I just need to get into the rhythm of writing this one a bit more! Thank you for reading!**

I left Weaver with an overcoming sense of dread filling me. Just when I thought I'd reached my goal, an impossible goal had been thrown in the way- designed to deter me from becoming a soldier, I was sure of it. Thanks a lot, Weaver. Successfully convincing Tom Mason to allow me into battle was an entirely inconceivable notion and Dan Weaver knew as much.

I fumed over this as I stalked down the corridors of the main building, too irritated to really care about where I was going. And admittedly, irritation wasn't my main emotion- distress was. Deep rooted, suffocating distress and worry that I didn't see any way to get rid of.

"Audria!" A voice behind me called out, and I felt a hand tugging on my arm. I recognized it as Hal, and immediately turned to him with a displeased look.

"What have I told you about touching me without permission?" I glared at him while asking this, though a hint of smile played at my lips. A run-in with any of the Mason boys could lift my spirits immediately and make me forget my concerns.

"It's not allowed, it's rude, you'll break my fingers, yada yada yada. Whatever. I'm not scared of you, Myland." Hal shrugged his shoulders and gave me an easy grin. I'd really grown to love the simple, playful banter I got into with Hal. Everyday there was something new for us to tease each other about. "You headed to breakfast?"

I nodded absently, though my stomach was churning too much to even consider eating, and cocked my head to one side as I regarded him. "I thought you were supposed to be on patrol with Ben."

"Well, Weaver called in my dad and Ben to talk to them about something, so I was dismissed. Which means I get to eat breakfast with you," Hal finished, grinning that lopsided grin, and throwing his arm around my shoulder.

My eyes grew wide as I glanced over at Hal. "What did he need them for?" I could tell I was about to start panicking. I needed to think of a plan to…_trick_ them into letting me fight or something! Weaver couldn't just drop that bomb on them and give me no notice.

Hal shrugged again, and his eyes slid over to search my face. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"Er…" I didn't know if I should talk to him about my little issue, but I continued on anyway. "I asked Weaver if he would give me a position as a fighter." Hal's eyes grew wide at this, and his lips moved to form words, but I held up a finger. "Now, before you say anything, I know, I know, I know. Safety, whatever. I don't care. I want to be out there with Ben."

Hal was silent for a moment as he considered my words. "Listen, Audi, I don't know if that's the best idea. Ben would get—"

"Distracted? Yeah, that's what Weaver said." I gnawed on my lip for a moment, and then continued, "I don't think it's a problem. Ben can keep his focus."

Hal just sighed while shaking his head but raised his arms up in surrender, letting me loose from his hold. "I won't argue with you, but I don't agree with your decision."

I gave him a small smile at this. I supposed that was an appropriate reaction; not everyone was going to agree with what everything wanted. In fact, I knew very few people who would agree to me being a fighter at all, but that wasn't going to stop me.

We continued on to the cafeteria in silence, where we ran through the line to get some piping hot oatmeal and sat down in a corner table alone. I noticed the looks everyone gave us as we walked- it wasn't always easy being so close to the president; sometimes I felt like I was a celebrity in a glossy magazine with the way people gossiped about all the members of the Mason family's personal lives, which of course included me.

"At least the food is hot," I said through a mouthful of mushy oats. No offense to Hal, but I was far past the point of caring about manners around him, and all the rest of the people could say what they wanted if they felt the need to creepily watch a teenage girl eat her breakfast.

Hal didn't say anything, just gave me an amused look, and continued eating his breakfast.

"So, are you going to talk to my dad about it?" He asked after a few minutes of silence filled with us eating our food.

"I have to, Weaver made it one of the stipulations that Tom grants permission," I grumble, staring at my plate and not at Hal. "Like it's a field trip and I need a parent signature to participate."

Hal let out a low whistle, shaking his head at me and said, "Good luck with that one. You know my dad will never go for that, not when you'd have to face actual combat."

I sighed tiredly, and gave Hal an even look. "I know Tom's just looking out for me, but I'm at the age where I think I can decide for myself. And besides, they use Matt for missions sometimes- how can they let him go out and not me?"

"Matt has gone on a mission with possible real danger one time, and even then he wasn't in a direct fight- my dad got him out of the way well before the combat broke loose," Hal pointed out.

I just rolled my eyes at the eldest Mason brother, and bid him farewell and told him to wish me good luck as I put aside my tray and headed out to find Tom. I had a feeling it might turn into a heated argument.

* * *

"Yes."

"Yes?" I questioned, staring at the man before me incredulously. "Are you feeling okay? I mean, I know you have a lot of stress put on you but…" I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

Tom cracked a small smile. "Did you want me to say no?" After I shook my head numbly, he continued, "I know how hard it is for you to feel 'useless'. I know you want to be able to know Ben is alright, and I understand that, because I feel the same way about all the people I love."

My confusion turned into full-out joy as I realized I'd finally found someone who understood my viewpoint completely. "Thank you, thank you, thank—" I started before Tom held up a hand and I groaned. _Not this again._

He chuckled quietly for a moment before his face grew more serious, and he said, "I don't want you out there when it gets especially dangerous." Before I could protest, he continued on with what he was saying. "I worry all the time, every day, about the people I love…and Audria, you fall under that category, so I want you to be safe too. I know Hal and Ben and Weaver and everyone else out there will keep watch of you, but I need to know you won't try anything reckless."

I smiled softly, touched by the honest caring Tom showed for me, and nodded without saying a word, just letting my grin grow bigger, before I launched myself at Tom and pulled him into a hug.

He patted my back, and then pulled back to look at me as he said, "You've become like a daughter to me, and I intend to treat you like any of my sons. Just stay out of trouble, be safe, and I will support you no matter what."

* * *

We were sitting cross-legged on my bed playing cards before Ben's next patrol when I tentatively said, "Ben? Can I talk to you about something?"

"Sure," he said, still staring down at his cards intently, no doubt plotting his next hand so he could win for the sixth time in a row. If I hadn't been told Ben was a somewhat genius before the invasion, I would've thought the harness had increased his brain power as well as everything else.

I cleared my throat, and then said, in a quiet and nervous voice, "It's kind of serious, Ben." What was it about Ben Mason that made me turn shy and girlish when I was usually a tad rough around the edges? Why couldn't I just sock it to him?

Oh gosh. _Sock it to him? _I must've been really nervous if I couldn't even keep myself from thinking ridiculous idioms.

His eyes snapped up to my face and his eyes clouded in confusion. "Is something wrong? Did someone say something to upset you?" I could see him visibly getting more and more worried as he went on. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" I stated, just a tad bit louder than necessary, and then lowered my voice a bit. "No, you didn't do anything wrong. Not at all. I just…want your opinion on something, is all."

"Oh," he said, blowing out his breath in relief.

"I wouldn't be relieved just yet," I said, biting my lip, and looking at him to gauge his reaction.

He didn't say anything, just raised his eyebrows and tilted his head over a little bit. The fact of it was that I wasn't at all sure how Ben would take it. Half of me was convinced he would think it was a great idea…and then the other half was sure I was making a mistake.

"I'm becoming a fighter. You're dad and Weaver already gave me the go-ahead," I stated quickly, and became perfectly silent after managing to force the words out.

He just stared at me in shock, wide-eyed for a few moments. Maybe trying to figure out whether I was serious or not. I guess he'd never considered me fighting alongside him…

"I know you might be worried about my ability to fight, but you've seen me kill a skitter, and I helped with dozens of them while you were away. I really think I could be an—"

Ben started shaking his head. "Audi, I know you can fight, it's not like you're not _violent _enough for it." I gave him a flat look at this, and he smiled slightly. "It's just that…are you sure that's what you want? It can get dangerous. There are other better jobs for you to do, if you want to help around here."

The thing is that Ben usually knows not to lecture me about what I can and cannot do- especially not after he left and came back. If he's arguing on this, he must feel strongly about it.

I looked down and bit my lip, not wanting to admit to him why I wanted to be a fighter. "Ben…you're out there every day while I'm stuck in here waiting for you to get back. I know, I sound like some old housewife or something." I didn't look up at him as I went on. "But I worry about you…more than really is reasonable, I know, but…I've already lost you once. Twice, actually. And I can't go through that again- I need to know that you're okay." I finally looked up into his eyes.

His expression immediately softened, and he took my hands in his. "Audi, I've never gotten hurt before. You know how it is with the spikes. My own abilities keep me safe."

"Maybe," I allowed, "But my being there could help."

"Consider my point of view, though. I worry about you too and it would be so much worse if you were fighting."

We were at a stalemate, I knew. Both of us had fair reason for our opinions, and neither of us was inclined to give in. So I gave him an ultimatum.

"Okay, so either you quit fighting and take up a different job, or let me accompany you into the fight."

**Author's Note: Reviews are lovely motivation for faster, longer chapters :) Maybe if you review and you have a story of your own, I'll drop by to give my own review!**


	3. Skilled Discoveries

**Author's Note: Here's the next chapter! Thank you to all the lovely people who reviewed last chapter! Let's try for even more reviews this time :) Nothing makes it easier to update than knowing I have people waiting for it! **

Tom had let me become a fighter for a reason, I liked to believe. He saw something in me that the rest of his sons failed to see, and that included Ben. In fact, Ben was _especially oblivious_ to the _positive aspects_ of me fighting.

"Why are you allowed to go into combat and I'm not?" I asked bitterly as he strapped on his boots and made way for the door. "How is that fair?" I could hardly look at him for fear of bursting into tears.

He sighed, a tired and annoyed sound, and threw an exhausted look in my direction. I knew, we'd been at it for an hour with no clear resolution in sight. But I wouldn't give in- the boy wanted to keep me safe, but he practically wanted to lock me up in the process. Sure, I would never get hurt that way, but was I really even _living _then? He couldn't see it from my point of view.

"I'm need out there, you know that," he said, shaking his head slightly. "They have plenty of fighters; they don't need another human. But with my spikes, I can do things other people can't..."

"Ben, you're still human, and you still have _other _humans that care about you. Can't you see that?" I could feel the tears forming in my eyes and I stated at the ceiling, willing them away. "For us to be _together, _we need to be _equals_."

The thing with Ben was that he kept a blank face with anyone else. He wouldn't show his emotion, especially not any emotion that made him vulnerable. But with me, Ben lost his careful composure, and I could see the desperation on his face when he turned to me once more.

"We are equals...Just...just not on the battlefield, Audi. Please. This is the one thing I'm begging of you." He looked at me with pleading eyes, the chocolate brown of them unbelievably soft.

I shook my head in disappointment, not giving in to the tender, warm feelings that spread throughout my body at the sight of that look. "I've had more than enough training, I can hold my own against skitters, and it could help me defend myself in the future. Is there some reason you don't want that for me?"

Ben shook his head as well in response to this, an angry flare showing up in his expression as he snatched his jacket up roughly from my armchair. "I'm not going to talk about this."

"_So that's it?" _I asked sharply, looking up at the boy in front of me in distaste. Sadness had given way to anger, and now I was seeing red. I couldn't begin to remember when I'd gotten this way with Ben. So argumentative and...violent. When had I started to act this way toward him? "We can't even have a civil conversation about this?"

"It looks to me like you've already made up your mind," he said, throwing his arms up in frustration. "Look, you know I don't want you out there, and you know I can't stay here, so it's ultimately up to you. I hope you realize what the right thing to do is before something happens." With that morbid remark, Ben left my quarters, shutting the door loudly behind him.

It went beyond my own anger and hostility, I realized. Ben hadn't been exactly agreeable lately, either. And I knew, he had a lot of pressure on him so my nagging couldn't have helped, but did he have to be so...dismissive? Especially since fighting was something I really wanted? I so badly wished for our old relationship back. I would've given anything for it.

We'd grown apart more than either of us cared to admit. Were we even in a relationship anymore? I honestly didn't know. Relationships required upkeep and hard work, and all I knew was that neither of us was putting much of an effort into that side of things.

As I got changed from my sleeping clothes, I grasped the reality of it. We spent all our time trying to keep each other safe, and none of it actually being _together._

* * *

"You'll just be doing some recon today, if you're up to it," Weaver said gruffly, while giving me a small smile that let me know he appreciated my help as much as anyone else, even if he wouldn't admit it.

"Of course." I smiled right back at him, determined not to let my argument with Ben earlier in the morning put a damper on my first mission as a fighter. Even this small mission garnered a flush of excitement within me.

"You'll be with Deni, Maggie, and Hal today. Deni, you hear anything out of the ordinary, you tell your team immediately." The small spiked girl nodded in consent at this, and Weaver continued, "You four are to look through an abandoned house just outside of city limits. We've been told that the enemy skitters check into the house every few weeks, and we want to see what's inside."

We all nodded and began grabbing our gear to head outside the city. More than likely, it wouldn't be dangerous, but there was always the chance that the situation could turn hostile. And, though I wouldn't admit it to anyone else, I was itching to get into combat and test out my skills.

As Maggie led me down to the armory, I couldn't help but hope for a light machine gun or something even more lethal. Killing those slimy, spidery monsters seemed to be a perfect justice. Needless to say, when she equipped me with a small handgun and a long knife in a leather sheath, I was more than slightly disappointed.

When she saw the look that flitted across my face, she just smiled. "Don't be fooled; the gun is small but powerful, and that knife can be deadly in the hands of a skilled fighter." She patted me on the back, and turned to gather a few more weapons for herself and Hal.

I tested out the knife, sliding it out of the sheath once, and examined it. Though it was a dangerous weapon, something about the sharp gleam of the blade made it beautiful. I was anxious to try it out, for the blade to make contact with a skitter and give me the sweet revenge I so desperately wanted. My lips curved upward as I thought about it and that sense of pleasure at the thought off _killing _something shocked me.

As Maggie turned back to me, I could tell she could see the wicked glint in my eyes by the way she was grinning. "Somehow, I don't think you'll have any trouble messing up those skitters. You certainly have enough anger at them to get you through."

My hostility was justified, wasn't it? How could any of the surviving humans help but want to take down a few of the things that had destroyed our home? I wanted to give those aliens a brutal representation of what the human race was capable of. I wanted to show them we wouldn't be kept down regardless of what they put in our way.

And that's what it was all about, right? Fighting back and not taking their torture lying down? That's what we were all rebelling for.

* * *

"So you ran away from him as soon as you told him you liked him?" I sputtered out, grinning at the girl next to me. A genuine grin, really, for the first time in months. "Was it that bad?"

She nodded, her untamed curly hair bobbing up and down as she went, and agreed, "I just bolted. And didn't stop for almost ten streets, I was so embarrassed."

I shook my head slowly, laughing at Deni as she explained the story in further detail. Out on recon, checking out the empty house, Deni and I had struck up a friendship, perhaps built on our mutual desire to help out, or maybe the fact she was the only girl around my age even interested in fighting.

Careful and kind small talk had quickly turned into playful banter and stories from before the invasion. In a matter of an hour, I'd forged a decent friendship and I couldn't help but be happy about that. And then there was Maggie- though I'd known her for a long time, I'd never really talked to her before then.

In fact, Maggie was smiling too when she looked over at us, and she shrugged. "At least you got the courage to tell him. And really, makes for a good story now, doesn't it?"

I was surprised Maggie was keeping up with our conversations, adding in comments here and there. I had never taken her for a 'girl talk' kind of person- maybe it was her hard exterior, or the fact that she was clearly older than me- but I guessed everyone needed to let loose a little sometimes. She had even chipped in her own stories from her early teenage years. Of course, Maggie had far less lighthearted stories than either me or Deni, what with the cancer and everything that happened after, but she shared what she could.

We continued on with the petty talk as Hal kept watch outside the house and we moved from room to room, turning over furniture and rifling through closets. As I was describing an incredibly awkward encounter with an old chemistry lab partner (in which the boy in question had cheekily stated that we 'had chemistry together' and then fumbled for my lips), a thought seemed to strike Deni.

"What does Ben think of you fighting?" She asked, her smile friendly and her eyes warm. I could tell she didn't mean any harm by the question, but my expression immediately darkened.

I shook my head and shrugged noncommittally. "He doesn't approve, and wants me to stay safe. Wants me to do nothing." I flashed a bitter smile, looking between Maggie and Deni. I glanced away after a moment, not really wanting to talk about it, but added anyway, "We fought for one of the first times this morning."

"I'm sure it'll get better," Deni said, her smile even kinder than before as I looked up at her. "He can't go on fighting about it forever. He's bound to give in at some point, right?" I wanted to reach out and hug her for her reassurance, even though it didn't help much.

I lifted my shoulders a bit, shrugging once more, but not replying. Would he give in? Ben was acting so differently than usual, and he had always been stubborn. Whereas he was typically calm with me, though, he had started to get angry. Not the kind of angry that scared me, the kind of angry that hurt me, emotionally. The kind of angry where he pushed me away and closed himself off. I'd seen it happen before and I certainly didn't want it to happen again.

"Ben's only looking out for you," Maggie added after a moment of silence, and then continued seriously, "Maybe he'll be upset for a while, but I think everyone knows he cares about you. He won't give you up over something like this, trust me." The tone of her voice lifted, and she smiled at me wickedly. "And besides, there's nothing sexier than a woman fighter, right? He won't be able to resist your gun-slinging charms."

I scoffed at this, but looked away as I tried to hide the blush that quickly rose up to my cheeks at her last comments. I quickly put aside the thought of him like that, since it had been so long since he'd thought of me that way- you know, like his girlfriend, like someone he would want to _kiss_.

There really _wasn't _any relationship between us. At least, not in that sense. Not right then. I started to say something along those lines when I was interrupted.

"Hey," Deni's voice rang out in the dusty room. "Come here and look at this." We followed her line of sight to the floor, where there was a floorboard haphazardly pushed aside. Maggie swiftly reached down and pushed the piece of wood completely away from the opening in the floor, tilting her head in confusion at what she revealed.

Underneath the panel of wood was a small, shiny black box, nestled in white cloth, with wall around it covered in thick fiberglass. To prevent detection of heat, maybe, if the box even gave off heat.

What was this little black box doing so hidden and protected? More importantly, what _was _the little box and what did the skitters want with the tiny object.

**Author's Note: I have a lot of crazy ideas for this story, but I'm always willing to hear more, if you'd like me to add something or write a certain scene. (Or you could go on over to my other fic, posted as 'An Offer You Can't Resist' and request a oneshot with any pairing!)**

**Thank you for reading, anyway! Reviews are love :)**


	4. Reaction Bombs

**Author's Note: Next chapter! No reviews for the last one, but that's okay! I would love some, though! Anyway, I have big plans for next chapter...it's gonna get interesting, and surprise you guys, I think!**

Weaver showed terrifyingly little reaction toward our discovery. We went for a debriefing as soon as we reentered city limits, and the captain did little more than press his lips into a firm line and huff a little. No words- no thanks or even, God forbid, scolding for the little black box delivered safely wrapped up in cloth to his desk.

Tom, on the other hand, questioned us relentlessly about how we found the box and the state of the building we found it. The house was dusty, obviously abandoned long ago and the box was found nestled under floorboards. And repeat.

He kept muttering about something being wrong, pacing back and forth in front of us as we sat in the conference room. I knew he must be distressed about Anne's pregnancy- she _was _due any day now, and everyone else blames his suspicion on this, but I couldn't help but agree that something was off. The box was placed so conveniently, falling into our lap at just the right moment, that whatever was inside of it must have been bad news for the humans.

In any case, the box was locked up in the clinic until we could get a mysterious doctor who apparently lived in the deepest underground of Charleston to take a look at it. Dr. Kadar was his name and he was a nuclear physicist before the invasion. I was anxious for him to check it out, but I was also wary of what he might find when he did.

As it was, the four of us that had gone on this mission were sent to lunch in the cafeteria with everyone else. We sat with our heads down, close together, so that we could whisper about our discovery unperturbed. Of course, no civilians were supposed to know about the black box until we knew more about it ourselves, but it went deeper than that. No other military personnel was to know about it either, because bringing alien technology- especially _enemy _alien technology- into Charleston was bound to raise some bad opinions, particularly from the likes of Pope and his gang of thugs.

"Should we have brought it back?" I whispered worriedly, careful to keep my voice low as I uttered the fear no one else wanted to bring up. "What if there's something dangerous inside of it?"

Hal snorted a little, but lowered his voice too as he replied, "If there's something dangerous, then we take it out and use it against them."

Maggie just shook her head at Hal, and said, "Then we blow it to bits as soon as we find out. But for now, it could help us to have it in our possession."

Deni nodded her agreement without commenting and went back to eating her food in silence. Something was clearly wrong, but I didn't know how to press it with her, not knowing her that well.

"It's the looks they're giving me," she whispered, looking up at me, but her smile was a little forced. "Doesn't usually bother me when I'm with the other deharnessed kids, but around you guys...You're all so normal and then I'm just not."

I pinched my face up into a scowl as I looked around to see that people were, in fact, staring at Deni with looks of disgust on their faces. I so badly wanted to throw some punches around, but I held that back, and just turned to Deni with a smile and a shrug instead. "The spikes don't bother any of the people you actually care to talk to, right? Then the rest can just go screw themselves."

Deni's eyes widened a little at my strong language- well, strong for _me _anyway and she probably couldn't help the laugh that bubbled to her lips.I just laughed a little bit with her, and continued to eat my own food, occasionally picking something off Hal's plate just to mess with him.

We all fell silent, eating in peace until I heard a, "Uh...Audria...", uttered softly by Deni, who was sitting across from me. When I glanced up at her, she gestured with her chin behind me.

I turned around slightly to see Ben was standing there with a plate a food, smiling, but tapping his foot awkwardly. Without saying anything, I slid over a seat to give him room and turned to Hal instead of him.

"So did Weaver give you any instructions for me tomorrow?" I asked pleasantly, my lips curving upward as he raised his eyebrows at my display of avoidance toward Ben.

"We're on patrol in the morning," he said through a mouthful of food. "Me, you, and Maggie." I nodded at this, grinning at Maggie and resumed eating, my attention focused solely on the plate in front of me.

"So are you not going to talk to me?" Ben said after a few moments of this, and I turned to look at him with an expectant expression.

"I thought you didn't want to talk," I pointed out, paraphrasing his words from earlier in the morning. I crossed my arm over my chest and stared at him, waiting for the response.

As I looked at him like that, and he looked back at me seemingly at a loss of what to say, Maggie, Hal, and Deni all sprung up, making excuses and bolted from the table.

"It was stupid," he began. "Something like this shouldn't come between us. I don't want to ruin our friendship over something as stupid as this argument." At the word 'friendship', I fought the urge to gawk. Is that really all we were? Friends? We certainly weren't dating, but _friends. _I wasn't sure I liked that word.

"You can do what you want, and that's the end of it. I don't get a say. And I'd rather you know that I'll support you even if I don't agree, then you think you can't be around me because of it." Ben finished quietly, looking at me to gauge my reaction.

"Your father would be proud of a speech like that," I said mockingly, though I had a big grin on my face, telling him immediately that he was forgiven. "It's fine, Ben. But I do need to go see Weaver..."

"Oh," he said plaintively, staring down at his lunch like he was embarrassed. "I was hoping we could eat together? If not, it's okay, I just thought-" His worry almost alarmed me so I held a hand up.

"Yeah, that sounds nice. I can go to Weaver in a little bit," I said, smiling at him. He was worried around me again, which threw off little red warning flags in my mind. What was going on? Maybe he was finally acknowledging our lack of a relationship, hence the word _friendship_. Or maybe that was his way of breaking up with me...

Although, I suppose, three months away with the rebel skitters without so much as a goodbye effectively did that for him a while ago. Who could blame me for my actions afterward?

* * *

After visiting Weaver and the stress that came with his silence on the subject of the black box, I wanted nothing more than a distraction from the topic. So of course, I made a beeline for the only other place I was accustomed to.

When Ben left with the skitters, I was heartbroken, and I realized that I needed something to pass the time. _He's going to be back, _I would tell myself, and Anne would reassure me, so I took to spending my time assisting her and Lourdes in the medical bus. Something about having that constant reassurance was like having my mother back, and it was comforting. Without the doctor's kind words, I would've fallen apart without Ben. He had come to mean so much to me, and at that point, I didn't even know if he was _alive._ Not exactly your typical teenage relationship problems. Whenever I was in distress- whether it be when we were on the road or when we were stationed firmly in Charleston- I knew I could count on Anne to help me through just about anything.

Which is how I found myself in the clinic once more, assisting the pediatric patients, and doling out aspirin and cold medicine. Anne would stop by every few minutes to pat me on the back and tell me I was doing well, and then get on with her own work. For the distraction, I was grateful, but what I really wanted was to get Anne's opinion on this.

After the patients had all been treated and there was a lull in the usual busy atmosphere of the hospital, I approached her.

"Is that box secure here?" I asked, biting my lip in worry, and glancing around me to make sure no civilians were milling about.

Anne nodded, smiling that kind smile she always had. "Lourdes took it back to the storage room, and locked it away. And of course, there's a security pass code on the storage room door."

I was only slightly reassured by this, and looked away from her as I thought things over. I shook my head after a moment, trying to clear the thought of the alien object from my mind. "How's the pregnancy going?"

She smiled, seeming genuinely happy to be talking about it. "Easy. Surprisingly easy, actually. With Sammy, I was so much more tired. But she's getting big isn't she?" She rubbed the swelling in her stomach and gave me a sweet, demure smile.

"I bet she'll be beautiful," I murmur softly.

"And you'll be her big sister," she says happily, causing me to snap my eyes up to her in shock.

"W-what?" I stuttered out, staring at her with wide eyes as she nodded slowly. "A sister?"

"You're practically Tom's-" She cut herself off, a smile growing on her face. "You're practically _our _daughter, Audria. If being around so much and sticking with us through everything doesn't make you family, then I don't know what family is. You've helped all of us in one way or another."

My mind flashed to Mae at the mention of being a sister, and it was almost too painful to think about. How could I be a sister when I failed the one I already had? She died because of _me._ How could I be trusted with something so fragile and little?

Anne seemed to notice my internal struggle, because she just patted me on the back comfortingly, and stood up to walk away. Before she could get very far away, she added, "You'll be a wonderful role model, Audria."

* * *

I was sitting in my bed once again after dinner- this time Ben was already on patrol- when there was a soft knock at outside my quarters and the soldier on guard opened the door to reveal a distraught looking Tom.

I was immediately on high alert from looking at distress painted across his features alone. "What? What's happening?"

"They bombed the house. The one you found the box in, it's just been...obliterated." Tom looked at me helplessly, gesturing upward. "We don't know who did it or why they did it, but it's gone."

The shock seeped into my features as I took in what he was saying. The house was _gone_? So the skitters must have known that we had their box. Did that mean an attack was imminent? And if so, what could we do to prevent it?

All this rattled through my mind as I stared back at Tom and managed, "Is there anything we can do?"

Tom didn't say anything, just shook his head, which I took for a negative sign, and motioned for me to follow him. We rushed through the halls with all eyes of the civilians on us- some of them _clearly _upset, so I had to guess that they knew what had happened.

We reached the military conference room in a short minute, with all the whispers following us through the halls, where Weaver was cursing inside. Swear words were echoed against the walls as the captain threw papers off the table in anger.

"We need to find out the kind of bombs that were used, see if this was human or alien made," Tom said to Weaver gruffly, clearly disapproving of the colonel's display of emotion. "Get yourself together, Dan; we need to look into this."

Weaver seemed sobered for a moment, and began nodding at the president and I. "We need to contact our resident bomb specialist." Weaver gave me a thin, wry smile at this, and I knew exactly who he was talking about just because of his expression.

It was no secret that I disliked Pope. With the way he was so distrustful, I felt he held no place in the Charleston community, and would only serve to betray us in the end, but I had to admit that Weaver was probably right about him. Who else did we have to turn to in this case?

I _knew _Weaver _had _to be right about contacting Pope when Tom started nodding in agreement at his words.

"Audria, first thing in the morning, we'll set out to talk to Pope," Tom said. Weaver jumped in then, reminding him there was a meeting with the Volm early the next morning, and Tom amended his statement, "Tomorrow morning, _you'll _set out to talk to Pope. Probably better that none of the Mason men are there to irritate him anyway. Hal can keep watch outside."

I groaned at this, but resigned myself to get in there and talk to Pope without a hassle. Of course, it was hard not to be affected by the insults and jabs Pope threw my way, but it couldn't be that difficult, right? If I could handle a slimy skitter on my own, I could handle Pope.


	5. Glass Bottles, Pt 1

**Author's Note: So this is my favorite chapter so far! Some crazy stuff happens, so stay tuned for the next part in it!**

**This chapter is dedicated to UGottaLoveDraco, for the consistently sweet reviews that have really motivated me to write these chapters faster! So a really huge thank you to you!**

I woke up with a start from my latest nightmare, immediately reaching for my knife which was placed precariously on the edge of my bedside table. Holding it up threateningly, I peered around the room. Nothing. Pure silence aside from my own breathing and the faint sounds of citizens chattering on in the halls.

Letting out a deep breath, I pushed the crinkled white sheets off my body and swung my legs around off the bed. Really, I was lucky to have solitary living quarters, otherwise I would've already committed a murder or two. Totally by accident, of course; there was no telling what I'd do after having woken up from a difficult nightmare. After the Battle of Fitchburg...I'd learned how valuable my life was, and how liable it was to be stolen at any moment.

Sighing, and trying to shake away the dark thoughts creeping into the corners of my mind, I made my way over to my armchair where my clothes laid. Dark clothes, a worn leather vest, and a military belt with a spot for several guns and my knife. Practical and inconspicuous, perfect for a meeting with Pope. If the man was even crazier than usual, having a gun on my hip and a concealed knife might become a saving grace, I thought smugly.

Tugging on my combat boots, I attempted to mentally prepare myself for the task ahead. _Just ignore everything he says,_ I told myself over and over again, a mantra repeated as if to some divine power.

There was a rough knock on my door and then it cracked open to reveal Hal Mason, grinning tauntingly, as if he knew my thoughts. The lucky stiff didn't have to attend a meeting with the spawn of Satan, so of course he wouldn't be in such a foul mood as I was.

"Shut your trap, Hal, or I'll shut it for you," I said threateningly, running one of my fingers across my throat in a violent pantomime.

"Someone's testy this morning," he mumbled, his mouth quirking up into a mocking grin as he stared at me. I just glared at him venomously in response and walked through the doorway and past him.

He caught up with me, chattering incessantly, the words ringing through my already pounding head. "You know, it's half-price happy hour over at Pope's place right now."

"At nine in the morning?" I snorted and then added sarcastically, "How lovely." Maybe I could down a glass of whiskey while I was there to take my nerves down a notch and make me hate Pope a little less. At the very least, a distraction from his grubby face and snide remarks would have been nice.

"With your luck, Pope will already be drunk and more unreasonable than usual," Hal said, laughing mercilessly at the thought, disregarding my own bad temper.

I groaned at this and we continued on our way, me walking in silence at the thought of the dreadful coming hour.

* * *

Pope's speakeasy (aptly named the Nest) could've once been a grand place. With it's high ceilings and dusty, albeit beautiful, chandeliers, it held an air of elegance that defied the delinquents it housed. It was probably an opera theater or something equally glamorous in it's height. And then aliens came and turned it into an abandoned historical mess and Pope followed their suit to make it a black hole of drunkenness and ignorance.

Hal posted up outside, refusing to trail into the filthy establishment with me. Something about Pope despising all the Mason and whatnot, he claimed. How was I any better off, then?

"Ah, the little princess of Charleston makes an appearance in our lowly abode," Pope called out to the early drinkers, grinning at me cruelly as I walked in the doorway. "Ms. Myland- or is it Mason, now? To what do I owe this unfathomable pleasure?"

I could only stare at him for a second. How did he get away with the things he said to everyone? Mocking me the moment I stepped through his miserable little door? He was pathetic. I thought back to the time Tom Mason beat the crap out of him with pleasure, and spoke with that thought on my mind, "Captain Weaver and Mr. Mason need you fro something. Apparently you're an expert in the field."

I said the word 'expert' like something dirty in my mouth, with a twist of my features. I hoped to convey how much I really couldn't stand him.

"Oh, so little orphan Annie's in the military now, is that it?" He laughed darkly and saluted me with a mocking flick of his hand.

I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Keeping my expression completely blank, I just continued on with the message, "It's urgent and you're needed to report to the president's office immediately."

"The oval office, eh? And why should I?" Pope walked out from behind the bar, taking a bottle of liquor with him, sliding it along the counter in his hand. Taking a swig of it, he said, "It must be nice to have all the Masons wrapped around your little finger."

I stared at him calmly and said, in the most even voice I could manage, not letting any of my irritation creep into my features, "It's about the bombing of the abandoned house."

He kept his gaze on me for a moment, just staring dully, and then said, "It must be nice to have a coat hanger following you around all the time. Mighty convenient."

He was goading me on, I knew, but I couldn't help the little inkling of anger that rose to my features. "Just go meet with Weaver," I said through my teeth.

"Oh, so that's what it is, making fun of the spiky _thing _gets you riled up," Pope taunted, wiggling his eyebrows. He pushed the drink away from him. "Have you married the little half-breed yet?"

I just kept my gaze cold and hard, locked onto his own eyes. _I wouldn't let him get to me._

"In that case, some congratulations is in order, right?" He pushed the bottle of rotten alcohol further away from himself. "Take a drink, then. Toast to the demise of the human race by that filthy little razorback." His grin was wicked, daring me to react.

I reached out and gripped the bottle, but didn't say anything or bring the foul liquid up to my lips. I gave him a steely look, daring _him _to continue on.

"You gonna pop out a few cross-breed aliens?" He asked, a mock seriousness painted across his face. My eyes narrowed at this and a tiny growl like sound erupted from the back of my throat, but I otherwise remained silent.

"Oh, how sweet would that be?" He gestured grandly toward the sky, his arms up in a mime of triumph. "The little alien freaks might do the rest of us a favor and kill that worthless piece of crap you've let manipulate you into loving."

I tried to take a deep breath and extricate myself from the situation, but I could feel my temper rising and that violent side of me begging to be let out, so...

It really shouldn't have been a surprise when I gripped the glass bottle tighter and before I knew it, broke it over Pope's precious little head.

The glass shattered on contact and the man formed a pained and surprised look across his face and stared at me in pure shock. There was a moment of silence in the bar as everyone held their breath; waiting for the scene in front of them to unfold, no doubt.

A few people started clapping and there was a tense moment while Pope stared at them with an intimidating look. Then he let our a roar at the bar-goers- a low, guttural, animal sound- and turned to lunge at me.

I dodged him, just skirting away from his outstretched hands. Having missed me, he reached out blindly and caught me by the hair.

I yelped in pain as he pulled me toward him and focused on self defense, knowing it was my fault for starting the fight.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a commotion and scuffle as something clattered to the ground and Hal appeared in my line of sight. He arrived just in time to see me pull my arm back and land a solid punch to Pope's jaw.

Pope stumbled backward, and then drunkenly swiped at me again, his hand connecting with the side of my face. I bit through the pain and made another grab for Pope when I felt arms close around my waist from behind and pull me backwards.

"Audria, now is not the time," Hal whispered in my ear as I struggled against him to get back in the fight. The adrenaline was running through my veins and I wanted something to _do _with it.

As Pope lunged for me again, Hal pushed me behind him in one quick motion and said, "Pope, don't do this. You know you'll be stockaded if my dad finds out." Hal pushed Pope away roughly, and he stumbled backwards once more, but didn't otherwise respond.

Before anything else could happen, Hal dragged me out of the building without saying another word. We were both on his motor bike before I could say a word of protest, speeding back toward the main part of Charleston and out of Pope-town.

* * *

"What were you thinking?" Hal asked me, the disapproving set of his jaw clearly visible. He pulled me through the halls until we were at the doors to his living quarters.

"I wasn't," I admitted truthfully, the adrenaline having disappeared. "He was saying horrible things about Ben, and I just couldn't deal with it."

"Weaver should have never sent you out there," Hal said angrily, kicking his door open and gesturing for me to go inside.

"I have my own room," I said, the confusion probably clearly displayed across my features. I would be needing to go back anyway, to change.

"You can't walk around the halls looking like that," Hal replied roughly, pushing me into the bathroom attached to his room. I examined my face in the mirror and wasn't entirely surprised to see the beginnings of a bruise blooming across my cheek and a few cuts on my forehead.

I went back and sat on his bed as he finished whatever he was doing in there. He followed me out after a moment, carrying a basin of water and a blue rag.

I went to reach for the rag, but he was already dipping it in the water and pressing it gently onto my face, wiping away the mess that my fight with Pope had left behind. I stiffened at this close contact, and gave Hal an alarmed look.

He just shook his head and said, "Don't worry. I'm not trying anything."

I relaxed a little, and gave him an easy grin. "Wouldn't be the first time."

We grew silence after those words were uttered as we thought about exactly what I meant. I don't think either of us knew what to say on the subject, and we'd never really had a clear resolution. Ben came back, and that was that.

"I used to really like you," he said quietly after a while. "I thought maybe you'd given up on Ben and it was just you and I."

I shook my head, upset at the thought of that. "When we started...whatever it was we were doing, it was out of comfort for the loss of Ben. Of course, I cared about you and liked you, but you knew it was never anything more."

We hadn't had a relationship exactly. It was never labeled, and no one ever knew about it. We wanted it that way. To us, it was just something that happened, and when it was over, it was over with no questions asked.

Hal looked upset at this, and didn't say anything more for a while, until he finally uttered, in a whisper, "Does Ben know about it?"

I just shook my head. _How could I tell him?_

How could I tell him that when he'd left for all of three months, I'd practically forgotten him? I'd run off with his brother, as if Hal and I could ride of into the sunset on his motor bike and never give another thought to Ben, who was out there somewhere risking his life.

_How could I tell him I'd betrayed him?_


	6. Glass Bottles, Pt 2

**Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter! They were lovely (: This is the second part of that chapter, and it really leads into the rest of the story.**

**Warning! There ****_is _****a bit of alcohol consumption in this part and some drunken behavior that includes nothing but talking, I promise!**

I knew that I really should have been listening, but I couldn't. I just stared at his face, the wrinkles most likely from stress, the grayish white whiskers barely there. It was impossible to comprehend the words with the expression he held. Anger and disappointment.

The anger I could handle. Did I not already have enough of that myself? But the disappointment…that was another thing. That crease by his eyes that signified I had not met his expectations, that said I was less than he thought I was…I could not stomach that.

So I stared at his face and the words coming out of his mouth barely registered.

"Audria," he said gruffly, and I tuned back in to hear him continue, "Are you even listening to me?"

I just shrank into my seat further and gave him what I hoped was a sheepish look. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth in frustration before speaking again. "I don't know what you were thinking this morning. You could've gotten hurt."

I shrugged. Did I care if I got hurt? Well, no, not so much at the time. All I cared about was seeing Pope in pain. And though that was malicious in nature, I felt that I deserved that much. I didn't deserve to be treated like his verbal punching bag.

Weaver fixed a very stern look on me, and said, "Audria, we can't have any hot-tempered soldiers out there. It's far too dangerous for the soldier themselves and those around them. I think you let your anger get the better of you today, and there's no guarantee it won't happen again."

I couldn't argue with that. It was like a beast had been let go and I hadn't wanted to stop trying to fight Pope, that was for sure. If it hadn't been for Hal, there was no telling how it would've turned out.

"Miss Myland, I don't know that I can keep you out on the field after this," Weaver concluded, his expression entirely unreadable. "From here on out, you are temporarily suspended from military duty."

I let out a tiny audible gasp and stared at Weaver, the fury building up in my eyes, I'm sure. "You can't do that! I didn't do anything wrong!" My words were shouted indignantly, but Weaver's look remained impenetrable.

"That's my final decision, Audria." His eyes were steely and hard, and I could see that he was resolute in his choice, but he continued, "You'll be on civilian kitchen duty for the remainder of the season."

"That's two months!" I screeched, my voice reaching an octave I didn't know I was capable of reaching. When I fell silent, Weaver didn't speak a word. He just stared at me, is if he was helpless to change the punishment.

It was already decided. I was officially a civilian again, on kitchen duty of all things. Straight from the commander of the military himself; it wasn't as if I could argue.

* * *

What happened next shouldn't have happened at all. That much I could say is true. I remembered hot tears stinging my eyes and stumbling out to God knows where. And then, I was talking to someone I never should've been talking to.

The chandeliers looked the same as that morning. Dusty and musty, but grand and elegant. A representation of a different time. It's funny, because I never pictured the old Charleston- pre-invasion, I mean- to look like an opera house. Even though I knew it was a big city, I imagined a quaint little town in the country where everyone had a soft and lilting southern accent and served the sweetest tea to be had.

I certainly never pictured the raucous bar-goers that were pouring in that evening. Stinking drunk, they all swaggered past me- a stumbling, intoxicated swaggering- and patted my back as they went.

"Ah, Miss Myland-Mason returns. Can I just call you M? Triple-M. Em. Emma! Can I call you Emma?" Pope's grin was as big as ever as he stood up from a game of poker. I could smell the alcohol radiating off him from ten feet away.

I just gave him an incredulous look in response, with a little shrug to my shoulders.

"You see, Emma, I don't like you," he began, falling into one of the bar stools at the front counter. He slapped his hands on the glossy wood top in agitation. "But I do admit a grudging…respect for you, if you will."

"Yeah?" I questioned, my voice half-hearted. I really wasn't in the mood to get into an argument with Pope, though I was sure that was where this exchange was headed.

"Yeah," he sneered in a crude imitation of my voice. "Never seen a girl your age so willing to fight. Kind of makes me proud in a way." His grin quirked up evermore, and to be honest it was kind of unsettling. He mimicked putting his hand over his heart in an emotional gesture.

"Doesn't matter much anymore," I said, staring abjectly in front of me, and then turned to Pope sharply. "If it makes you so proud, go tell Weaver I should fight." What had gotten into me, I wasn't sure. Asking John Pope for a favor? Yeah, that would be a cold day.

"Oh, Emma Emma _Emma,_ did he suspend you?" He said in a mocking childish voice, but then continued on in his usual gravelly one. "I wouldn't worry. _El capitan_ over there will give in. You're practically Mason's daughter."

Before I could respond to that, Pope shouted, "Lyle! Drinks over here!" The burly man bumbled over, tilting his head to show he was listening.

"151 rum for the both of us!" Pope announced with a grandeur that was almost always present in his manners. "Get us ten shots, Lyle. We're celebrating!"

Lyle, somehow the only one sober in the establishment aside from myself, eyed him disbelievingly, but said, "Sure thing, boss," and went off to fetch Pope's drinks.

I stayed in silence, waiting for Pope to say something and his words never came. He sat off, apparently thinking as well, and after a while I forgot why I was even there. After a moment, Lyle came back with ten shot glasses stacked into each other, set them down, and began to pour.

The liquid was a yellowy gold color, and looked about the same as the sparkling grape juice I used to drink as a kid. It was probably different in some way that a drinker could identify, but not me. To me, it looked like sparkling grape juice and I almost wanted to reach out and take a shot just to be brought back to that happier time.

The way Pope seemed so oblivious, and the way the rest of the rowdy drinkers in the background seemed buzzed and not much else, was inviting. In that moment, I could think of nothing I wanted more than to be so ignorant.

"Forget about Weaver, and your Mason boy and everything else, and just take a drink, princess," Pope said, grinning evermore and wiping his greasy hair out of his eyes. "C'mon, Emma, it can't hurt."

Before I could be goaded on further- before the man next to me could end his odd, cruel sort of kindness- I reached out in front of me and grasped the cool glass. Pope and Lyle- and a few of the other drinkers in the background, I might add- started chortling.

"Shouldn't I mix this with something?" I questioned, staring warily at the liquid, feeling my courage dissipating as I actually considered what I was about to do.

"Not up to it?" Pope laughed cruelly at this, and they added, "Lyle can get you some fruity drink with 40 proof vodka or something if you're too much of a princess to lower yourself to our standards."

I shot Pope the most defiant look I could manage and before I could lose that desire to prove him wrong, I downed the drink in front of me. It burned all the way down my throat and tears stung my eyes at the sensation.

I coughed it up a little bit and heard Pope laughing even louder, but this time he patted me on the back and was saying something along the lines of, "You seem to like surprising me, don't you Emma?"

The only solution I could think of to cure the burning in my throat was to take another shot, so I reached out and poured another dose of the liquid down.

* * *

To be honest, I couldn't understand why I was sitting at a bar laughing with Pope and his goonies, but I really couldn't care either. There was a pretty pleasant buzzing going through my head that made it hard to think too much, and it was the best thing that had happened to me all day.

Something about the drink had made me feel…almost joyous. Elated. Maybe drinking wasn't so bad, maybe these people had gotten _something _right. Maybe-

"What's going on here?" A stern voice said, and I turned to the voice grinning like a lunatic.

"It's so good to see you!" I exclaimed, lurching up from my stool and stumbling the few steps to the boy. "Oh, Benji, I'm so happy!" I threw my arms around him sloppily and pressed my face against his chest, inhaling. "You smell so good!"

Ben grabbed onto my arms a bit, and pulled me away from him enough to look at my face. His expression twisted into one of pure confusion and he turned to Pope while keeping his hold on me. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything, spike boy. Your girlfriend over there decided to drink herself silly all on her own." I turned my head to stick my tongue out at Pope immaturely and saw him throw his hands up in the air and give out a hoot of laughter.

"You gave her alcohol?" Ben said through gritted teeth, and seeing this, my expression turned worried.

"Oh, Benji, why are you upset?" I said, lifting my hand up to stroke his face a little and putting my other hand on his chest. "Everything is perfect…Well, everything is wobbly, but I feel _wonderful!_" I exclaimed once more, trying to give him the most charming smile I could manage.

"See, razorback, everything is _wonderful_," Pope emphasized, reaching onto the counter to knock back yet another drink. I couldn't remember how many I'd seen him down. Or, in fact, how many _I'd _downed.

It was all a bit fuzzy, if I really thought about it. How had I even gotten to the Nest? And how in the world had Pope and I become such good friends? I didn't care how got that way, but it was all incredible.

Ben took a deep breath which I could feel with my one hand placed gingerly on his chest, holding onto the material of his shirt. When he exhaled, he looked back down at me, and whispered, "Do you think you can walk?"

"Sure I can!" I boomed, and pushed away from him to take a few steps and prove that I was very capable of moving myself, thank you. I stepped sideways, and immediately felt a rushing in my head, and barely registered when I started to topple over.

Strong arms gripped around my waist and torso and pulled my upright once more. "Guess I can't walk," I giggled, too happy and floaty-feeling to care that I was so disabled.

I continued to giggle as Ben hooked his arms around my back and the crooks of my knees and lifted me off the ground gently. It felt nice to not have to carry my weight around, and I let my head lean against his chest in comfort. "You're warm!" I announced, smiling up at the blonde boy.

"At least we know you're a happy drunk," he muttered and threw a last fleeting glance at Pope, before looking away and saying, "I don't care if it's an apocalypse, you shouldn't be serving alcohol to minors."

Before Pope could answer with something undoubtedly derogatory, Ben was striding away with me wrapped up in his arms and out the door of the dirty old bar.

"C'mon, Audi, please get into bed," he pleaded in front of me, trying to gently push down my shoulders so I would sit.

"No!" I shouted grumpily, wanting to get my way for once. "I want to dance. Or eat…eat cake! Can you get me some cake, Benji?"

He let out a small chuckle despite his best efforts to stay stern with me, and said, "I promise, I'll bring you cake in the morning when you're feeling better."

"I'm feeling _amazing_," I proclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air as if to emphasize my point. I wiggled a little in a mime of dancing, and said, "You should try it."

Ben tried repeating, "Please get into bed," but I cut him off midway through with a bursting exclamation.

"You know what would make me feel better?" I demanded. I licked my lips and looked up at the boy, waiting for an answer. "C'mon, Benji, guess!"

He stared at me incredulously and then guessed, "A cupcake." I shook my head at this and motioned for him to continue. "No? Okay…a flower?" I moved my head side to side negatively once more. "Then what, Audi? I don't think I'll guess it."

I tilted my head to the side for a moment and considered him. It was too fuzzy inside my mind to tell whether or not I should say what I was thinking, so I just blurted it out.

"It would be nice if you would kiss me."

There was a moment of silence as Ben just stared at me in shock and I started giggling a little bit, and then sobered up enough to quit my laughing.

Then the giddy feeling invaded me again, and before Ben could even think to respond, I said, "It would be nice if you would kiss me like Hal did." I sighed a little as I thought of that. "When you left, I was sad and he used to kiss me and it was really nice and we used to kiss a lot." I babbled on like this for a moment, repeating my words again, and saying Hal's name, just to see what it sounded like through my ears in the state of mind I was in.

I didn't see the expression on Ben's face, and I didn't notice any kind of reaction because I was too busy laying down and turning to my pillow, and mumbling, "You should kiss me," over and over and over again until I tired myself out and quietly dozed off to sleep.


End file.
